


still here (when you awake)

by makoharuiscanon



Category: South Park
Genre: Genderfluid Kenny McCormick, M/M, More Tags Later probs, Sad tweek, Superpowers, demiromantic tweek tweak, hes so bored, high school setting, ppl without powers are "defects", superpower au, tfbw inspired powers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-02-07 12:49:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12841515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makoharuiscanon/pseuds/makoharuiscanon
Summary: Tweek's dreams become more vivid, more violent and intense. Instead of waking up restless, he wakes up with his body on fire and his skull feeling like it’s been cracked open. For the first time in his life, the dreams make him feel weaker.





	still here (when you awake)

**Author's Note:**

> ummm I hope u enjoy!! I'll update this when I figure out exactly where I'm going w/this which will hopefully be sooner than later

Tweek dreams of lightning. He dreams of electricity shocking through his veins, of pure, uncontainable energy flowing from his fingertips. Tweek is familiar with the scent of the changing winds, and has tasted its raw power on his tongue. He hears the deafening cry of thunder, and recognizes it's calling for him.

Tweek dreams of ice. He’s felt the intimate touch of its freezing temperature, the soft caress of its breath against his skin. He knows it's weaknesses and it's strengths, knows how strong it can be, yet also how fragile. He relaxes in its comforting chill, can feel its frost rising from his throat and waiting to escape. The ice whispers to him, and Tweek wants to listen.

But those are just dreams. Tweek’s never felt such power in his life.

He always sleeps restlessly when he dreams of having powers. But there's something oddly comforting in them, like finding shelter during a storm. Except in Tweek’s dreams, he wants to get swept up in the storm, and away from the shelter. Not much of a shelter he has, really. Not much of a life.

Being a defect, Tweek had never gotten his powers, and it wasn't likely he ever would. He'd held out hope for a while, but then his eleventh birthday had passed. Then his twelfth. Then his thirteenth, fourteenth, and fifteenth. Then Tweek had stopped hoping for much of anything. He'd stopped hoping for powers, stopped hoping for the pitiful and judgmental looks to go away. Stopped hoping he'd find or do something his parents could be proud of.

That didn't mean he stopped wanting it, though.

Tweek’s life wasn't so bad, really. Life consisted of more than just having powers. He liked to bake. He liked singing. He had friends. Friend. He had a single friend.

Tweek groans, leaning forward in his seat, rubbing his eyes with the back of his palms. He sat in the back of the bus, away from overly curious eyes and powerful people. He felt sweaty and gross, not having time to take a shower that morning. His head was pounding, and he couldn't get the thoughts of thunder and frost out of his head.

“You okay, man?” Tweek hears, and jumps anyway, even though he knows it's Kenny. “You haven't said a word this morning. Usually I can't get you to shut up.” Tweek sits up a little, and manages a half-hearted glare. Kenny is looking at him expectantly, and they shift so their feet are sprawled across Tweek’s lap. Tweek huffs and starts to untie Kenny’s loose shoelaces.

“Yeah, I'm, agh, good. Just tired.” He knows Kenny’s giving him a suspicious look even though he’s trying to distract himself with their shoelaces.

“Something happen?” Kenny asks him casually, but Tweek can hear the underlying concern. Tweek pulls the bow he made tight, and double-knots it. He starts on the other shoe, trying to avoid answering.

“No. Just. Bad dreams,” Tweek’s voice cracks a little, and he knows he's been caught.

“Again? Tweek, dude, I'm telling you, they got pills for that. You'll be out like a light.” Tweek can feel his frustration rising. He swallows. He doesn't know how to make Kenny understand. They were a defect too, but they'd never shared Tweek’s yearning for powers. Kenny had never expressed mutual sorrow or intense want. They brushed off being a defect with such nonchalance that it filled Tweek with envy sometimes. He didn't want the dreams to go away. No matter how tired they made him, no matter how anxious or awful- the dreams made him feel alive. They made him feel powerful.

Even if only temporarily.

“Hey, I'm serious though.” Kenny snapped Tweek out of his slump, and he realized his hands had stopped moving. “I'm here to talk,” they offered. Tweek let his head shift a little and managed a somewhat thankful smile. Kenny extended their arms out in a welcoming motion. Tweek resumes tying their laces up, slower this time, wanting to keep himself occupied until they reached the school. Kenny meant well, but Tweek didn't have any energy left in him to continue the conversation, especially when he knew what Kenny’s answers were gonna be.

I wish I wasn't a defect. I wish I had powers. I wish I was as strong as you. I wish I could be powerful without being powerful.

“I appreciate it, Ken.” Tweek says instead, and the bright smile he gets in return is good enough.

The next few weeks of school pass by in a painstaking blur. Being a defect is boring. The classes almost feel like some sort of punishment for something they couldn't control. While the normal people, people with powers, got classes to exercise their abilities, classes to show off, classes they got to choose. Defects got the basic, no-fun-allowed classes. Tweek tried to enjoy classes like home-ec and art, but it was hard being the only defect in a room full of powerful people. They'd duplicate cakes, or finish a product in the blink of an eye. They'd manipulate the way light hit a painting, or speed up cooking times. And all Tweek could do was follow the recipe, or follow instructions. He couldn't impress people, he couldn't be proud of anything. Not when he was constantly forced to compare himself to others. Not when he was a defect.

The only thing that changes through the weeks is the dreams. They become more vivid, more violent and intense. Instead of waking up restless, he wakes up with his body on fire and his skull feeling like it’s been cracked open. For the first time in his life, the dreams make him feel weaker.

It's a Monday when it happens. Kenny was absent, which wasn't a big deal in and of itself. Kenny was absent a lot, and didn't really like to talk about it, so Tweek didn't pry. He's got his head ducked, eyes shut tight to escape the morning sun shining in through the window. It wasn't that bright, but it still hurt his eyes if he looked long enough. For a minute, he starts to feel something akin to okay, before there's a bang on the front of his seat. Tweek flinches, lifting his head up with a groan. The dude who disturbed him gestures towards the front of the bus, and Tweek follows his thumb until his eyes connect with a pair of brown ones. Kyle. He's never really talked to him much outside of lunch, and only then sometimes, whenever Kenny was there and sat with Tweek. The other boy waves, a little awkwardly, but kind.

“Hey, Tweek!” Kyle has to shout a little for him to be able to hear over the loud engine and talkative kids. “Kenny told me you weren't feeling too good!” Tweek clears his throat, anxiety creeping into his chest. He felt like people were looking at him.

“I, ugh, yeah, I'm uh, not feeling too great,” Tweek responds, and he's pretty sure Kyle can't hear him, but the other boy just nods sympathetically.

“Sorry to hear that, man,” Kyle responds, and then Tweek can make out Cartman trying to get the redhead’s attention, and apparently even Eric Cartman was more interesting than Tweek, cause Kyle turns around and hisses something ugly at him. Cartman’s so loud that Tweek can hear a “Don't get pissy with me, Kahl!” but when Kyle turns back to face Tweek, he's got a smile on his face. The interaction makes his heart hurt a little. He could not be jealous of even Eric Cartman. Tweek refused.

“Anyway, I hope you get to feeling better, Tweek!” Kyle grins, and at that moment Tweek wants to confess a thousand things. He suddenly wants to tell Kyle about the dreams, how miserable he is, how he'd never feel better, how much he resented being a defect.

But Tweek barely has time to get out a quick “Th-thanks,” before Kyle’s turned back around in his seat.

Tweek's head throbs, and he closes his eyes.

Kenny is usually the last off the bus. They get on before Tweek, so they take the window seat. If Kenny had been there, maybe they'd have caught him.

But looking back, Tweek probably would have fallen regardless.

There's a bunch of kids in South Park. It's normal for it to take a while for everyone to get off the bus. But Tweek starts zoning out halfway through everyone filing out, his head pounding and his skin flushed.

Bus stairs were not complicated. Their bus had two big ones. Tweek had stepped up and down these same steps countless times before. But Tweek starts blinking suddenly, and when it's his time to get off, his vision blurs sharply. His hand darts out for the railing, but his depth perception is fucked and suddenly he can't balance properly and then he hits the concrete with a loud crack.

It's the sound that makes him whimper at first, not the pain. But then the pain kicks in, and his eyes widen and his mouth opens, only a small whine escaping. Then there's tears falling and he's hiccuping quietly, only just able to pick himself up a little. Tweek hides his face in his hands, snatching them back when he feels warm liquid coating them. His vision is red, red, red and he can't breathe. He can hear laughter coming from a ways away, and he's not sure how many people saw him fall. His throats closes up, and he lets out a ragged sob. Tweek can't tell if they're laughing at him or something unrelated. He's suddenly angry at himself, and he can still only see red, dark and staining. It stains his hands, the concrete, the snow, and now his vision. Tweek struggles to get up, bringing a hand back to cup his nose, spitting out the blood that's collected in his mouth. He tries to breathe, and cries out at the pain. He breathes through his mouth, but it's suffocating, and Tweek wants to pass out.

Then there's footsteps, and then there's someone kneeling in front of him.

“Hey.” The voice is muffled to his ears, and Tweek blinks slowly, trying to lift his head. “You okay?” Tweek wants to scream, wants to lash out at this person in front of him. All he can do is manage a pained moan, still trying to get up. Suddenly there's a hand in front of his face, and Tweek’s own hand falls. It's coated in blood, Tweek knows, and wrapped in ugly bandaids to cover his chewed-up fingers. The stranger must see this, but they don't take their hand away. The person eventually sees Tweek’s not giving them his hand, and he hears a sigh.

Then Tweek’s being dragged up by his arm, and he cries out, red vision blurring again. Their grip is firm, but contained, like their holding back. Tweek dry heaves a little, but he tries to focus on the stranger. He's able to make out a blue coat, a blue hat, and he barely recognizes the person as Craig Tucker before he meets blue eyes.

Tweek’s vision is blue, blue, blue. He sees Craig’s mouth moving in his lower peripheral, can see Craig’s eyebrows furrowed in an expression so unfamiliar, he can't begin to dissect it. All Tweek sees is blue. Blue like the clear sky before a sudden storm, blue like the unsuspecting water before it freezes to ice.

Lightning strikes, and Tweek breathes. 

**Author's Note:**

> if I made any mistakes just tell me n I'll probs get to fixing them. it's late but I wanted to upload this anyway. if I screwed up Kenny's pronouns at any point pls let me know!! I'm going with he/they pronouns anyway but tweek refers to him as them mostly. Craig's so caring u guys helping tweek up
> 
> also plugging my twt if u want @sonyeondaddies I just complain and whine so if ur into that hit me up


End file.
